


Cold Pasta

by fairyseok_666



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Confused Harry, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt Draco Malfoy, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sad Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyseok_666/pseuds/fairyseok_666
Summary: Narcissa and Lucius are dead.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 138





	Cold Pasta

Harry remembers entering the Great Hall for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts and seeing Draco Malfoy sitting at Slytherin's table, alone and away from his few remaining housemates, but still pondering a book and enjoying his lunch.

He looked calm, with a serenity on his face that the black-haired boy had never seen before.

Harry remembers walking over to his own table while allowing himself to admire the precise order of everything around the blonde, Draco had always been someone elegant, with an almost perfect sense of order. That day a shiny silver dish rested on the table in front of him, and on it, gently resting on the clean fabric of a paper napkin, was a rich assortment of berries, strawberries, sliced bananas and peaches, and a nectarine. Right next to it, there was a small bowl containing cold pasta, which looked and smelled delicious as all the food served in the Great Hall.

And then, when the boy with the round lenses finally sat down at his table, Draco began to eat, chewing with all the calm in the world, enjoying every bite, and distilling elegance with every movement. Harry couldn't help but compare it to the stuck movements and unpleasant noises Ron made every time he ate, and for a moment, he felt self-conscious.

_How could anyone be allowed to look **so good** doing something as simple as eating? Mostly if it was Malfoy!_

Before Harry knew it, lunchtime was over. He hadn't eaten anything because all the time he'd been watching Malfoy eat, and now, Hermione was rushing him to make it to the Enchantment class because 'we have to be prepared for EXTASIS'.

Harry gasped for air as he ran through the halls with his friends and for a moment felt like a sophomore or junior again, and a nostalgic smile filled his face... Until he ran into someone.

His eyes widened as his gaze collided with the silvery eyes of the boy who had unfortunately been left underneath him by the impact, but he quickly got up pretending he hadn't seen Malfoy's rosy cheeks and wasn't ashamed himself, as he listened to Ron swearing under his breath.

But all that remained in the background when Draco Malfoy's soft voice said, "G'day, Potter, and I'm sorry," as he walked parsimoniously and gracefully down the corridor.

* * *

Anyway, nowadays, Harry no longer has to worry about someone looking better than a model when he eats because he hasn't seen Malfoy set foot in the Great Hall for days.

This time the black-haired boy walks alone through the vast corridors of Hogwarts, and without any hurry, because it's Saturday and he can afford some of that much-desired tranquillity he has never had in his life.

Of course, that is until he hears sobbing, insults and screaming.

He swallows dry as he cautiously peeks out of the corner of the corridor and sees what is happening. His surprise is immense as he realizes that there is Malfoy accompanied by at least three Ravenclaw boys and one Hufflepuff boy. But this time, it's not the blond one who's bothering, as he always has been and as (at least for Harry) is the natural order of things. No.

Now Draco Malfoy is held up against the wall by a guy who seems to be two heads taller than him and three times wider. Malfoy has a broken lip, his eye's starting to swell, and Harry can see that he is unarmed. His wand is out of sight.

As the savior he is, he's about to get into the fight when he hears something that makes his blood run cold.

"What are you going to do?" one of the Ravenclaw boys asks, "Huh? You dirty little deatheater. Your stupid parents are dead; they've been dead for eight days, you dirty rat. Who's going to stop us from killing you now?"

Malfoy only cries as he tries to push the huge guy holding him over the wall, but the realization of a terrifying fact makes Harry gasp for air, and although the revelation that he's seen everything chases away the bullies who leave Draco lying on the floor, it doesn't stop a stupid shadow of worry from spreading through his mind (stupid because, God, it's Malfoy, why should he care about him?):

_Draco has not set foot in the Great Hall to feed himself since the death of his parents._

* * *

Harry shouldn't be there, and he knows it. Still, when he sees the names of Draco and McGonagall heading for the director's office on the marauder's map, he can't help but feel that he must go.  
  
I mean, come on, he must have had some right to know what happened, right? Harry had testified on behalf of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. Although he could do nothing for Lucius because there was too much evidence against him and he was a murderer, Harry had made sure that the lesser Malfoy had someone... Though apparently not anymore.  
  
So there, in Minerva McGonagall's office, covered in his cloak of invisibility, he set out to listen.  
  
"Sit down, Draco, please," says Minerva quietly, with a softness that Harry didn't know the woman possessed. Through the cape, he can see Draco with a forced smile on his lips and an emerald green silk pyjamas. "Tea? How do you take it?"  
  
"Black, no sugar."  
  
"Well," the woman leaves his sight but returns a moment later handing the young blond man a cup, and Draco sips the sour Tea, with soft elegance and without complaint. "So how are you? Dealing with your parents, okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," Harry notices that Draco wants to finish the conversation quickly. Still, she looks at him with prying, worried eyes, and he sighs, "I'm sure you know, I'll ask for a leave next week, and go to London to... plan the funeral. There's a plot reserved for them on the grounds of the first Malfoy Manor, Abraxas'."  
  
McGonagall seems pleased, but Harry just wants to get out from under the cape and get Draco out of that stupid office. "Are you sleeping well?"  
  
"Very well."  
  
"Do you eat well?" She asks, and her eyes seem to analyze Draco. "You look a little thinner."  
  
'A little!' Harry thinks. But the blond man shrugs and smiles, with that natural way of lying that he seems to have always had. "I'm just a little weak and agitated, that's all. I'm eating well; I'll be fine."

* * *

"I've got some food," says Harry, showing the youngest Malfoy a plate with pasta and some vegetables as he approaches the tree under which the blonde sits, facing the black lake.  
  
They are not yet confident enough to treat each other with the affection of friends. Still, a silent truce seems to have been established between Draco and Harry since the last one saved the blond from being beaten to death.  
  
The school grounds are quiet, the sun is beginning to set, and all Harry hears is the soft murmur of the waters and the singing of a few birds. Everything is so relaxing and so soft that Harry understands why the Slytherin likes to spend time here.  
  
"It's cold pasta," says the black-haired boy quietly when he's close enough, "I think it's your favourite, you know, I've seen you eat it many times during the sixth year."  
  
Harry thinks he hears him whining, but he's not sure. The blond guy takes the plate, and he looks at it. It's not a significant portion, but it's enough to fill it.  
  
"I even got you a fork; I don't think you like eating with your hands." Draco laughs softly, takes the food happily, and eats it happily. Harry smiles at him silently, and everything is fine for a moment, with both of them sitting by the black lake, the sun going down, and the birds singing in the background.  
  
But then, when both boys are on their way to their respective common rooms, Draco goes to the bathroom, and when he returns to the corridor, he comes back with his breath smelling like mint.

* * *

Harry corners him because he's sick of it.

The chosen one has fallen in love with Draco Malfoy in a few weeks, and he can't stand it. He can't stand to see the blond man destroy himself like that. So he questions him, corners him, and threatens him because he has given him too many chances to fix this himself.

And now Draco is standing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, shirtless, looking at himself in the mirror, and although the ugly scars Harry himself gave in sixth grade are still etched into his pale skin, the thinness of his body is something... Horrible, but even so beautiful that it's scary.

"My parents," he barely utters, choking on his own tears. "They always..." he shakes his head. "They forbade the elves to give me any kind of food when I was a child." Harry swallows dry, remembering his time with the Dursleys while Draco tries to wipe the tears from his face.

"They weighed me down every day because I had to be perfect, all the suits had to fit, I had to look like the perfect Malfoy's porcelain doll." Harry shudders, "That's too many calories, chocolate? For Merlin! What will our friends say?" another sob escapes his lips.

"And then... I came to Hogwarts, and everything was fine, perfect in fact, but then they die, and I realize I've been..." Draco laughs unhappily. "For Merlin Harry! Look at these scars, on my wrists and on my chest, look how fat and ugly I am!"

Harry blinks, trying to chase away the tears struggling to come out of his eyes as he cautiously steps towards the blond man and places his hand on his shoulder gently.

"Draco," he whispers, looking into his eyes, "you need help."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm really sorry it ended up like this.
> 
> But, I went through a similar situation once, and I have to admit that there are times when we have to recognize that we're not enough to help a person out of the hole they have dug so deep.
> 
> I hope you liked it, and I'm sorry.


End file.
